The Fan and the Flame X

It wasn't often that there was a commotion at headquarters, but when there was, I was glad to avoid it. It often had something to do with a trainee's graduation, success, or sometimes spectacular failure.
I was already a ways away from headquarters on this occasion, fortunately, focusing on my own training. The commotion went on for quite some time, then settled down. No one came to find me; they rarely did, but it had happened a few times, so I was usually a bit tense about the possibility. Once I was certain I wouldn't be bothered, I allowed myself to slip back into a single-minded focus.
My certainty was misplaced. Perhaps half an hour after I'd focused again, I brought my practice sword around and just barely managed to stop in time not to hit the... Tail? I wasn't quite sure--of what I assumed was a dragon, though not like any I'd seen before.
Someone slid off the dragon's back, turned and noticed me, and blinked.
"... I wasn't aware we had company," he said.
There was a long pause before I found my voice again. "You must not be very perceptive."
He raised an eyebrow. "Says the person who didn't notice a full-grown dragon. Hummingbird says you nearly struck their tail."
"... Apologies, Your Grace." I bowed. "I will be more careful in the future."
He frowned. "Have we met?"
"You carry yourself like an emperor," I said. "... And your crest is plainly visible, and there's a portrait of you in the training hall."
"You're a cadet," he said, seeming a bit surprised. "I wondered what someone was doing training this close to the Order of Brim's headquarters, but you weren't wearing a uniform. Not to mention that it is standard protocol for the entire Order to greet me upon my arrival, and I certainly don't recall you being there."
"I wasn't aware you were coming," I said. "Had I been, I'm sure I would have been there."
"I suppose I can forgive the mistake this once, Cadet...?"
"Veretta. Temerity Veretta. Your Grace." I bowed again.
"Temerity Veretta. What brings you out here? Is there something wrong with the training yard?"
"No. Just the people in it," I said. "... I'm sorry, Your Grace. I should not speak ill of your soldiers."
"And yet you just did, so you might as well continue."
I hesitated. "I'm not convinced of their capabilities. I certainly have nothing to learn from them. Cadets and officers alike. I come out here to make sure I'm not wasting my time."
"You're much better than them, then?"
"I don't wish to brag," I said confidently, "but yes."
"I assume you've had prior training? Or are you just a prodigy?"
I smiled slightly. "Why can't it be both?"
"I see. A well-trained prodigy." He smiled. "If you really are that accomplished, I can understand why you would want to train alone."
"I'm sure most of your soldiers are more qualified," I said. "I don't mean to sound... Rude."
"Clearly." He leaned back against Hummingbird. "I suppose you're right, though. Many of them, especially among the training officers, leave much to be desired. Still... I try to have faith in them. My father always reminded me to trust my armies."
"He sounds like quite the idealist."
His smile fell away and he looked at me. "You think so?"
"There's nothing wrong with idealism. It's just more likely to get people killed than realism."
"And what is realistic, do you think?"
I sighed. "You don't need the opinions of a cynic."
"And yet I'm asking for them anyway. As your emperor."
A moment of silence, then I nodded. "Trust should not be given so generally, Your Grace. If you trust your soldiers, then an enemy could infiltrate the Order of Brim and know that you would trust them, merely because they've joined your army. You shouldn't give people that easy of a way to get to you."
He blinked, and a moment passed before he answered. "Most people tell me I should try to trust more."
"Trust gets people killed," I said simply.
"That's what Hummingbird says. And it's what I've seen, but people keep saying I should have more faith."
"Sometimes you have to believe your own experiences."
"Try telling that to my therapist."
I raised an eyebrow, smiling a bit. "The great emperor has a therapist?"
"My father thought it was a good idea."
"And what does your therapist say?"
He paused. "... That I'm letting my past define my future. That the first step to healing is allowing yourself to heal." He crossed his arms. "I think they're just too scared to accept the truth."
My eyes met his. "What's the truth?"
One of his hands ran along Hummingbird, almost like someone petting a cat or dog for comfort. "That I spent too long having dreams and waking up to a nightmare to believe it's the other way around now."
I went silent, thinking about his words. Finally, I frowned thoughtfully and spoke. "Well, your therapist is right about one thing. The first step to healing is allowing yourself to heal. There's just one problem."
"And what's that?"
"That you've already healed." I leaned against one of the trees. "Most people think healing means returning to how you were before. Some people even say it makes you stronger. And they're not entirely wrong, I suppose. It does make you stronger. Not always because you're more resilient, but because you know how to never put yourself in that position again. You did heal, and you're much stronger for it."
He stared at me for a moment, appearing to be processing. "... Perhaps I should seek advice from my soldiers more often."
I smiled. "Only the ones you trust."
He laughed quietly. "Yes, I suppose so." He paused. "Do you come here most days?"
"Every day," I said.
"Then perhaps I'll see you again tomorrow. The woods are beautiful this time of year."
"Perhaps you will."
He looked back towards headquarters. "I should be going. They'll be expecting me. It was good to meet you, Temerity."
I bowed as he climbed onto Hummingbird. "And you, Your Grace."
He smiled, and Hummingbird took off into the sky, disappearing from view in a split second.